


The Feathers of Your Wings

by Dryad



Category: The Witch (2016)
Genre: Bestiality, Consensual Underage Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Ruined Innocence, Underage Kissing, seriously underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: ~ Come. My name is Zaza-el. ~
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Feathers of Your Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



> I grew up in Northern New England and live here still, in one of the oldest houses in my town, in a state with some of the oldest housing stock in the country. My road is dirt, I have stone walls in my garden, I have line trees and a dry stone foundation and an early, experimental variety of Red Delicious in my back yard. There's a spot a ways down the road, a sharp, stream fed dip deep in the woods with a little white house on one side, and a large, glacier-dropped boulder on the other. Everyone who walks by that boulder can feel the malevolence in it. For a long time I thought it was just me, but then I mentioned it to someone and a chorus of 'me too's rang around the room. 
> 
> New England is an old place filled with old gods, old spirits, and not all of them enjoy us newcomers.
> 
> This movie may have been filmed in Canada, but I'm telling you, everything else is 100% correct.

It started simply, as most things do.

The house had to be built, the land set to be tamed. As such, Jonas and Mercy were free to run wild, for there were none to look after them. They gathered milkweed pods and built houses for the fairies, though the fairies in the woods were uncivilized and loved nothing more than to set pranks. Jonas sat on sharp dried pine cones all too often, and Mercy frequently had milkweed fluff under her bonnet when her hair was combed at night.

Their task was to herd the goats and help Thomasin and Caleb with whatever they needed. But Mercy trod on the wet laundry once to often, and Jonas could never sit still long enough to shave down the pegs so the boards could go on the barn roof. Even when they were to gather reeds for the roof of the house, they couldn't be trusted with the little scythe; Mercy's sliced apron proof enough.

And when Maisie, Effie, and Peggy's milk began to dry up, sending Mother into a frenzy, shouting at Father loud enough for the indians to hear, not that any of the family had seen them in person, it seemed to Jonas that maybe they should move back to the settlement, which earned him a cuffed ear for the suggestion. 

"What if the babe be like Caleb?" Mother whisper-screamed late one night when she thought they were all asleep in the loft. 

"Thou will be able to feed the babe as thee did Thomasin, Mercy, and Jonas," rumbled Father, not even making an effort to be quiet. "It is not thy will that will be done here. Pray upon it on the morrow, Kate."

"Aye..."

Father said something too quiet for them to hear, and then Thomasin realized they were listening and shushed them hard, even though they hadn't made a sound.

The billy goat they would come to call Black Phillip drifted out of the woods late the next morning, bleating and bah-ing and cavorting, and Mother fell to her knees and thanked God for his goodness. She put a dollop of sweet cider jelly on top of their corn mush luncheon, a treat in anticipation of the baby goats to come. Winter was still to arrive, yet now they were assured a summer bounty of cheese and milk in the next year.

Mercy heard him first. 

They were rolling a hoop Thomasin had made from a green hemlock branch sticky with sap back and forth in front of the goat pen when Mercy stopped, turning to look at the pen with a quizzical look on her fact. After a moment she turned to Jonas, who was tapping the hoop with a dry stick. "Didst thou hear? Black Phillip? "

Jonas scrunched up his nose and glanced at the goat. Black Phillip eyed him back equally.

"Canst thou not hear him?" Mercy asked again, coming closer to the pen. She wriggled her fingers between two of the slats of the wall and gripped tightly, as if that would help her hear.

Jonas shrugged. 

_~ thy brother understands not ~_

Black Phillip turned away and settled on a patch of straw.

_"Mercy! Jonas!”_

Mother’s irritation was clear in her voice, the tone one Mercy knew better than to ignore. Mother was in a mood more often than not as she swelled. Mercy had taken to eating less so Mother could eat more, which seemed to make her happier. 

“Come on, let’s go!” said Jonas, dancing away towards the house. Mercy followed, albeit more slowly. 

~*~

Spring became summer, the crops grew. Mother gave birth to Samuel and suddenly Mercy and Jonas were free. According to Father, the heavy clay soil combined with the heavy wet weather and the early cold killed the barley and the corn was just hanging on, blighted though it was. Father attended the goats less often, although once Mercy saw him with Effie. He was red faced and panting, slamming his hips against Effie’s backside until he groaned and stopped, falling onto her back. Effie bleated and struggled out from underneath him, skittering away at a half run to join Maisie and Peggy on the other side of the chicken coop. Twice Mercy saw him with the mare,although he had to tie her tight to a tree and stand on a stump to achieve the same thing. She told no one what she saw except for Black Phillip, who winked and snuffled and told her such things were common amongst people like them. Special people. One day she would be the most special of all.

“Jonas, too?” she asked, because she wouldn’t want to be special without him.

_~ aye ~_

~*~

Weeks passed. Late summer turned to autumn. 

Father was splitting wood while Mercy and Jonas were in the field, gleaning what they could from the remaining stalks of corn. The blight had hit hard, with nearly a third of what had grown mushy and spotted. Even the good corn was half black, but Father insisted they had to use it, for there was no money at hand unless he traded in the mare and the goats. They would simply have to keep on until spring.

With Thomasin was in the house and Caleb nowhere to be seen, Mercy decided she had had enough. “Jonas -”

He continued whacking a cobless cornstalk with his current stick.

“Jonas!” she said more loudly, glancing towards the house in case Mother had wandered out. Now that Samuel was gone, she had a tendency to arrive someplace silently, and then scream at them as if she had seen the devil himself.

“What?”

“Let’s go play! Black Phillip taught me a game, but we have to go into the woods to do it,” she said. She rubbed her fingertips on the ground in order to get all the black mould off of them. It was disgusting.

“We’re supposed to stay here!”

“They won’t notice, they’re all busy! It’ll only take a few minutes and then we can come back, they’ll never know!”

Jonas looked at her underneath thunderous brows, but Mercy could tell he wanted to go as much as she did. Keeping eye contact, she grinned and slowly backed away, one step at a time. He bit his lip and rocked from foot to foot, wavering. Finally Mercy could take it no longer; she turned and raced away.

The woods had never seemed so far away. Black Phillip kept his promise, and no one cared that they were in the woods. 

Mercy led Jonas to her favorite spot in all the world, underneath the sheltering branches of a pine tree so large not even the entirety of their family would be able to link arms around its trunk. It was old, old enough that a few massive branches trailed nearly to the ground. Dead pine needles were fragrant beneath their feet, and given how hidden they now were from the house, Mercy felt free to shove Jonas against the rough bark of the trunk.

“What’s that for!” he cried, wrinkling his nose at her.

“Take off thy trousers, I want to see thy thing!” she said, folding her arms. He hesitated and she stamped her foot. “Now!”

“Mercy, we shouldn’t, it’s bad!”

“Get them down!” She shouted, and then, a moment later - “I’ll show thou mine if thee wilt show me thine…”

With a frown, Jonas untied his breeches and slid his braces off of his shoulders. He started pulling down his breeches, then paused. Mouth set mulishly, he jerked his chin at her. “Go on.”

Black Phillip had already told her to expect this, so Mercy didn’t hesitate. Reaching under her apron (haphazardly repaired with crooked stitches because it was _’Long past she learned, William!’_ ), Mercy pulled up her skirt and chemise with both hands, then laid the bundle of fabrics over her forearm to get another handful of shift. The air was delightfully cool against her skin; the day was unusually sunny and very warm.

Jonas was bare too, and though he was not as big as Father or even Caleb, Mercy could see that one day he would be. Now the rest of Black Phillip’s instructions came to her, and she lay down on the pine needles and spread her legs. “We have to do it like Father and Mother, Black Phillip said!”

“Did he really?” asked Jonas. “He never says that to me!”

“You don’t listen hard enough,” scoffed Mercy. “Come on, before Thomasin comes looking for us.”

“All right,” said Jonas. He dropped to his knees and shuffled until he was between her legs. “Now what?”

“Lie on me, and kiss me like Father does to Mother.”

It was shockingly strange, the feel of Jonas’s parts against her own. Mercy wrapped her arms around his back and kissed him on the lips, and that was just odd. She didn’t want to do it again and looked to the side, felt her heart slam into her chest as something moved around the tree trunk - oh, it was just a hare. Its little nose twitched up and down as it stared back, and Mercy smiled, trying to encourage it to come closer. Maybe she could keep it as a pet? No, it would just be killed and eaten and she didn’t want that.

Jonas started moving like Father, his breath hot on her neck. Something was sticking into her back; she shifted and Jonas was moving and a sweet feeling began in her cunny. 

_~ aye, child, like that ~_

~(0)~ end ~(0)~

**Author's Note:**

> I'm 100% certain I mixed up the thee's and thou's, but I did my best!


End file.
